


autophobia

by thisissirius



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Aftermath, Car Accidents, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 00:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8349904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/pseuds/thisissirius
Summary: It’s almost monotonous, telling everyone he’s fine, that he’s okay, he’s dealing. It’s not a lie, doesn’t feel like a lie. There’s nothing wrong with him. 
robert deals with his own aftermath of the crash.





	

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to seektheinfinite for all her help with this. 
> 
> i thought about robert and how he'd deal with the crash and this is the result. enjoy?

Aaron has nightmares.

Robert notices the first one while they’re still in the hospital; Chas and Liv are back at the Woolpack with a promise to come back the next day, and Robert’s resigned to a night in one of the horrible plastic chairs at Aaron’s bedside. He doesn’t want to leave, especially after the scare of a flatline, and keeps their fingers tangled together. His thumb keeps smoothing over the ring, his chest tight with happiness that Aaron said, _yeah_ , because he never thought he’d be this happy.

“Sleep, yeah?” Robert presses a kiss to Aaron’s forehead, brushing his free hand through Aaron’s hair.

“Slept ‘nough,” Aaron complains, though Robert can see it’s taking effort to keep his eyes open. He squeezes Robert’s fingers. “You sleep.”

“I will,” Robert says, though definitely not before he’s made sure Aaron’s asleep and comfortable.

It doesn’t take long for Aaron to sink into a deep sleep. Enough for Robert to pull back and get comfortable, sliding the chair closer to Aaron’s bedside so that he can keep hold of Aaron’s hand, reassuring himself that Aaron’s here, alive, they’re both okay. If he keeps his fingers pressed to Aaron’s pulse, he’s the only one that has to know.

It’s only been a half hour at most when Aaron starts twitching. He moans, then sucks in a breath. Robert sits forward, frowning, grip tightening on Aaron’s hand. He’s no stranger to Aaron’s nightmares, living through many post-Gordon. Aaron’s shifting increases, so much that Robert’s afraid he’s going to do more damage. Leaning up and over Aaron’s body, Robert keeps gentle pressure on Aaron’s shoulder, shakes him gently.

“Aaron, hey, it’s okay.”

Aaron moans again, breath coming in short, sharp bursts that scare Robert in their intensity. He thinks back to the car, to Aaron’s panicked breathing, and shoves it down. Now is not the time. He keeps rubbing Aaron’s shoulder, squeezes his hand.

“Come on, Aaron. Wake up for me.”

It takes more gentle murmuring, drawing Aaron up from whatever nightmare he’s found himself in. Eventually Aaron’s eyes snap open. They’re wild, scared like he was back in the car, when he thought he was going to die. “’Obert?”

“Yeah,” Robert breathes, swiping his thumb gently against Aaron’s forehead. “It’s me, you’re safe. It’s okay.”

It’s not, but thankfully Aaron doesn’t call him on it. He takes slower breaths, fingers twitching in Robert’s grip. He lets out a frustrated noise, looking up and away from Robert’s face. He never wants to talk about the nightmares, not even when they were more comfortable with each other, and now doesn’t seem to be any different.

“You’re safe,” Robert says again, because it’s all he can say. It’s all he has.

Aaron nods. His breathing has evened out. “Talk to me?”

“What about?” Robert asks, frowning.

“Don’t care. How you got this ring back for a start?" 

Robert sees it for what it is; Aaron wants a distraction, and Robert’s more than happy to supply him with one. He can’t help the flush that colours his cheeks when he recounts the story. Ignoring the judgmental look in Aaron’s eyes, belied by the smile on his face, Robert tells him.

 

 

 

As soon as he hits the water, a tremor runs through his body.

The car is right where he left it; boot open and the steering column twisted. His gut wrenches at the sight, but he pushes on. The ring is still in the glove box. It’s not because Robert paid so much for it. It’s not because he doesn’t want to have to buy a new one. It’s not even the only one, but it’s _Aaron_ _’s_. After hours of searching, Robert found it and knew it was the one, that it was more Aaron than any other ring could be.

Part of him worries that it will have negative connotations, that Aaron won’t want it because it’s a reminder of everything they’ve been through, but Robert needs it, needs to be doing _something_ , even if it’s diving back into water he thought he was rid of to get a ring back.

 

 

 

“You’re an idiot,” Aaron tells him, but his eyes are soft, his body turned towards Robert, their fingers a tangled mess. “Love you." 

“I love you, too,” Robert says, because he didn’t back in the wood, because he didn’t in the car.

 

 

 

They get home the next Wednesday.

There’s James’ funeral to attend, and though Robert doesn’t know him well, if at all, he appreciates what it’s doing to Adam. He’s Vic’s husband and Aaron’s best friend, but he’s also, hopefully, Robert’s friend too. He feels for him, can’t help but remember Aaron flatlining, the bone deep terror that he was going to lose Aaron fresh on the heels of becoming his fiance. There’s also a routine to settle back into it, but all that’s to come.

Chas has the settee in the living room already set up, plumped pillows and blankets propped up against the arm. Liv’s curled up in the armchair, grin splitting her face, and it’s infectious. Robert returns it, both of them giddy with having Aaron home and alive, and even as Aaron’s moaning that he’s not an invalid, that he can _do it himself, Rob, lay off_ , they both roll their eyes conspiratorially.

“You wanna cuppa?” Robert asks.

He’s ready for the snap, but as soon as Aaron meets his eyes he seems to sag. “Yeah, ta.”

Robert busies himself with the kettle, but as he reaches for the mugs, he fumbles with one, unable to catch hold of it before it drops on the floor and shatters. He curses under his breath, looking up as Liv pokes her head around the door.

“Okay?”

“It slipped.” He waits only long enough for her to shrug and turn back into the living room before letting out a slow breath. He stares down at his hands, clenching them tightly, but it doesn’t stop. the shaking. He presses his forehead to the cool cabinet and takes a few deep breaths. When his heart stops racing, he bends to pick up the pieces of his own favourite mug 

His skin prickles with awareness that someone’s watching him. He knows who it is and deliberately doesn’t look towards the couch.

 

 

 

It’s dark in the living room, what little light seeps in through the gap in the curtains is splaying over Aaron’s face as he stares up at Robert. They’re curled on the couch, Aaron propped up delicately between Robert’s legs, his head nestled on Robert’s shoulder.

“Everything alright?

Robert nods, not trusting himself to speak. He’s stroking his hands through Aaron’s hair, thankfully gel-free. They haven’t always been the most affectionate, but it’s nice, trying to find this middle ground. They’re not big on affection in public, what they have is nobody’s business but their own, but that doesn’t mean Robert doesn’t want to show Aaron how much he loves him. He likes the soft kisses, the hand holding, the forehead touches. He wants Aaron to know he’s loved, to see it.

Aaron makes a noncommittal noise and settles back against Robert’s chest. His hand is splayed on Robert’s stomach, and when he twists _just so_ his ring glints in the light.

“I can go upstairs if you want,” Robert says, when the silence stretches on for too long.

“No,” Aaron says, too quickly. Robert doesn’t mind; he doesn’t particularly want to leave Aaron either. It still feels too raw, too soon. Perhaps it’s not healthy, but Robert doesn’t care. “Stay.”

Robert nods. He wants to be close, to make sure that he’s on hand if Aaron has another nightmare.

When Aaron finally drops off, it feels like Robert’s holding his breath the entire night, waiting for Aaron’s breath to hitch, his body to shift in the wrong way. Before he knows it, it’s four in the morning and his back’s stiff from keeping the same position. He extricates himself from Aaron slowly and gently, pausing mid-stretch when Aaron shifts. He’s still asleep, no sign of a nightmare in sight, and Robert takes the opportunity to slip into the bathroom.

He’s washing his hands, leaning heavily against the sink, when he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. His eye is still slightly inflamed, and he touches it gingerly. He winces, trying to ignore how red both eyes are, how dark the smudges under his eyelashes are becoming. He hit his head on the way down, pain exploding in his eye socket before succumbing to darkness. Robert’s chest feels tight, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps and he can’t control it, feels the urge to run, to get the hell out. He spins on his heel, realising how ridiculous it is, but the whole bathroom feels to close, too hot, and he sinks to the floor, burying his hands in his hair. It’s awful, too much, but eventually the feeling subsides. When he stops shaking, and feels steady enough on his legs, he makes his way back downstairs. 

Slipping back in behind Aaron is easy. Watching the steady rise and fall of his chest is easy. Resting a thumb against the inside of Aaron’s wrist, feeling the steady _thump thump_ of Aaron’s heartbeat is easy, easy, easy.

 

 

 

“You look awful,” Chas says, passing him a mug of tea.

Robert makes a face, but takes the cup gratefully, not even bothering to blow the liquid before taking a gulp. “I was in a car accident.”

Chas raises her eyebrows. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Some,” Robert says, and it’s not exactly a lie.

“Make sure you do. Don’t want you keeling over when you’re supposed to be watching Aaron,” she says, though the harshness of her words is lessened by the soft smile on her face. It’s weird, unexpected, but Robert’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I’d never let anything happen to him,” Robert says, before he’s even thought about it. He wouldn’t; he couldn’t leave the car, couldn’t let Aaron drown, and only dove back into the water because Aaron had Adam and Vic and he was _safe_. Even in the hospital, even after the stupid machine screamed out Aaron’s death, Robert couldn’t leave, couldn’t be moved until he knew for sure Aaron was going to be okay.

“Hey,” Chas says, gently. She puts her mug on the side. “I know that. So does he.”

Robert nods jerkily, grip tight on his mug. He closes his eyes for a beat, trying to fight back the images of Aaron’s frightened face, panicked breathing, his eyes sliding closed after _yeah_.

“You okay?” Chas doesn’t move closer, doesn’t try to hug him again. Robert’s grateful; he’s not sure he could handle that.

“Fine,” he lies. “I’ll be fine.”

Chas doesn’t look convinced, but she picks up her mug again anyway.

Robert walks back into the living room, rolling his eyes as the _Top Gear_ theme erupts from the television. He drops down next to Aaron, resigned to watching crap telly for the foreseeable future, but he can’t bring himself to care when Aaron immediately slides closer, body pressed tight to Robert’s. 

Ignoring Chas’ heated gaze from the kitchen is more difficult.

 

 

 

Robert grips the edges of the dining room table, home from the funeral.

The Woolpack is bursting with people, all of them solemn and sad over James. Robert can’t look at their faces anymore, at the sadness and the worry and the fear. He can’t ignore the crash still hovering over all of them, made all the more obvious by the fact that he’s helped Aaron back into bed, still sore and aching from his hospital stay.

He’s been doing work, laptop still open on the table, catching up on paperwork when he felt the hot, suffocating feeling come over him again. His chest is tight, breath difficult, and feels like he’s going to throw up, like he can’t breathe, that he’s dying, dying, dying. His grip is so tight on the table that his knuckles are white, imagines the wood snapping beneath his grip.

Eventually he stops feeling so hot, enough that he can release the table. He takes a slow breath, a second, third. Sinking into one of the chairs, he traces a finger over the tabletop until his heart stops racing.

“Robert?”

It’s Aaron, standing at the foot of the stairs, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey,” Robert says, forcing lightness into his voice. “What are you doing up?”

“I can’t sleep anymore.” Aaron comes around the sofa gingerly. It was too soon to go to the funeral, Aaron should be resting, but neither of them wanted to avoid it. It felt right to go, to pay respects, even if Robert’s still overwhelmed by the image of the coffin, of imagining Aaron in there, the steady beep of a flatline still echoing in his ears. Aaron draws his attention back to the present. “You alright?”

Robert shrugs. “Just working. Customer frustrated me.” He shut the laptop with an audible snap and then spins around on the chair so that he’s facing Aaron. He can see his answer doesn’t go down well with Aaron, and stands slowly. “You want a drink?”

“I want you to sit down for five minutes.”

“I was sat down,” Robert says, mouth twitching. Aaron just rolls his eyes and sinks into the sofa. It takes only one pat of his hand to the cushion next to him for Robert to drop down next to him, bodies pressed tight together.

“Relax, yeah?” Aaron says, curling his fingers into Robert’s. 

Robert nods, doesn’t trust himself to speak. He tries to force his body to relax, to sag into the sofa like Aaron, but there’s a part of himself that he can’t shut off, the part that’s ready for anything, to help, to save, to flee. He doesn’t know how to control it, to make it see that Aaron’s right here, he’s fine, he’s okay, he’s alive.

 

 

 

“You look tired,” Vic says, pulling him in for a hug.

They’re in the Woolpack for lunch, and Robert slipped into the kitchen to get away from the mess of Dingles currently celebrating Aaron’s engagement.

“Thanks, Vic.” Robert slides up onto the back counter, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’m fine.”

It’s almost monotonous, telling everyone he’s fine, that he’s okay, he’s dealing. It’s not a lie, doesn’t feel like a lie. There’s nothing wrong with him. Vic settles back into preparing dinner, casting him worried looks every so often.

“How’s Adam doing?”

Vic shrugs. “As well as can be expected. It’s not exactly been a great month.”

Understatement, Robert thinks. Holly, then the crash, then James. It’s a string of bad luck, devastation that Robert can’t imagine. Except. Maybe he can _imagine_. “And you?”

Vic puts down her knife and sighs. She gives him a shaky smile. “I’m doing fine.”

Robert recognizes his own lie in her words and gives her a rueful smile. “I deserved that." 

“You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?” Vic approaches him again, resting a hand on his leg. “Whatever;s bothering you?”

Robert opens his mouth to reply, wants to say something, but can’t make his voice work. “I’m okay,” he says instead, softly, and though she can tell it’s a lie, Vic nods anyway. “I promise.”

 

 

 

It’s not that Robert doesn’t want to sleep.

It’s just that he _can_ _’t_.

Aaron’s still having nightmares, though while they’re not decreasing in frequency, they are in intensity.

He’s restless, shifting more than he ever did before, but he doesn’t wake himself up much anymore. He wakes up screaming once, convinced he was drowning, waking Chas and Liv in the process. It took Robert a good ten minutes to calm him, to convince him that he was alive, he was fine, they were safe. 

None of them got any sleep that night.

 

 

 

“Are you eating again?” Aaron asks.

He looks a lot better than he has the last few days, actually moving around without wincing.

Robert shrugs. “I’m hungry.”

It’s only three in the afternoon, but Robert’s been hungry even with the lunch he ate with Vic. Aaron frowns, but doesn’t say anything else, simply slips into the kitchen behind Robert and busies himself with putting the kettle on.

Robert turns back to his crisps, slipping one hand into the open packet while he types out a text to Liv with the other. She’s with Gabby, helping her friend deal with Ashley’s obvious decline, and letting Robert know she’s staying over. Robert doesn’t know when he became the second guardian to Liv, but it feels right, good, and it sends a thrill through him.

He jumps, phone skidding across the table, when Aaron rests his hands on Robert’s shoulders. Aaron immediately pulls back and Robert swallows thickly, taking slow breaths to calm his racing heart.

“Sorry,” Robert says, peering up at Aaron, shame colouring his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to, you just startled me.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron says, frowning and scrutinizing Robert. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Robert says, too quickly. “I’m just jumpy. Have been since the, you know.”

Aaron nods, though he looks even more thoughtful. Behind them, the kettle clicks. When Aaron makes no move to deal with it, Robert slips out of his chair.

“I’ll do it,” he offers, because it’s better than having Aaron’s gaze on him, making him feel hot and too open, raw and revealed. 

It takes him three tries before he can lift the kettle without shaking.

 

 

 

“Robert?”

“Robert?”

Robert blinks, shaking his head. “What?”

Liv rolls her eyes. “I’ve been calling you like twenty times. What were you thinking about?”

Robert opens his mouth.

“On second thoughts, don’t tell me, it’s probably Aaron.” Liv drops into the chair next to him, fiddling with her phone. “Um, I wanted to ask, do you — now you and Aaron are getting married —”

She trails off. Robert waits, knowing he should probably understand what she’s trying to say, but not following. “What?”

She flushes, looking heated, and there’s a flicker of something on her face that he can’t place. “You usually don’t need me to spell it out,” she mutters. Robert doesn’t know what to say to that, but thankfully Liv continues. “You do want — I mean, you’re not gonna like, send me back to Ireland?”

It shocks Robert, that she thinks just because he’s marrying Aaron that she’ll be cast away. “We’d never send you away.”

 _We_ because they are a we now, aren’t they?

Liv lets out a slow breath and then meets his eyes. “Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise.”

“Good. Okay.” Liv takes a moment, smiling to herself, before muttering, “Thanks,” and then disappearing back up the stairs.

Robert looks back at his laptop, email open on his screen, but he can’t remember who he was going to email or why. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he takes a deep breath.

 

 

 

Aaron sleeps well for the first time that night, not a nightmare in sight. When he wakes in the morning, kissing Robert slowly, Robert waits until he’s left the room to start moving, body slow and sluggish. He drops back into the pillows, taking a slow breath, two, and sinking into sleep.

 

 

 

 _Aaron looks at him, eyes sad, sinking below the water, Robert tries, tries, tries to free him but the steering column won_ _’t budge, he feels sick, needs to breathe, needs to get to the surface and take a lungful because it’s what Aaron needs, but he can’t leave, fingers tight around Aaron’s, he can’t get him out, can’t save him, there’s a steady beep, a rhythm of beat, beat, beat that slows and stops, Aaron’s hand falling, he’s lost him, he couldn’t save him, he failed, he failed, he failed_

 

 

 

Robert jerks awake, clawing at his chest, and he’s on his feet before he’s even thought about it. He needs a glass of water, and stumbles downstairs and into the kitchen. He rubs a hand over his eyes, breath quickening when he gets double vision for a beat, two. Fuck. He reaches for a glass, slips and watches it fall and shatter on the side, glass skidding across the surface.

“Fuck.” His fingers are shaking as he picks up the pieces, feeling it abstractly when he grabs it wrong and glass slices into his palm. He growls, pain tingling over his hand.

“Robert, what the hell.”

Startled, Robert stumbles back, head catching the corner of the open cabinet door. “Shit.”

Aaron’s watching him from the entry way, but immediately comes towards Robert when he sees the blood coating Robert’s hand. “Sit down, would ya, I’ll get something for that.”

Robert blinks, doesn’t move for a beat.

“Robert,” Aaron says, more slowly. “Babe, sit down, yeah?”

The _babe_ shocks Robert into moving. Aaron’s face is twisted in distaste, like he didn’t want to say it.

“Babe?” Robert says, a slight mocking edge to it, but he can’t deny the pride that fills his chest. He’s someone’s _babe_.

“Sit down,” Aaron grouses, moving around Robert and reaching for the first aid box Chas stashes in the top cupboard. “You look like you’re going to fall down.”

Robert does as he’s asked and sits down heavily in one of the chairs. There’s a bag of medication from the chemist on the table. “When did you get these?”

Aaron looks back over his shoulder. “I’ve been gone about an hour.”

“Oh.” It’s been an hour? Robert only meant to grab a five minute nap. “I was going to get those for you.”

Though he’s looking a lot better, Aaron’s still aching, still needs medication after his stay in hospital. There’s been a green prescription slip sitting on the table and Robert made a mental note to pick them up yesterday afternoon.

“I know,” Aaron says softly, pulling another chair closer to Robert. He cradles Robert’s hand between his own, antiseptic wipe already open. “I’ve been asking you for three days.”

Robert frowns. “You only asked me yesterday morning.”

Aaron pauses. “Sorry,” he says, as he wipes gently at the blood, cleaning the gash across Robert’s palm. It’s not deep. Aaron takes a breath, eyes softening. “I asked you on Monday.”

“Yeah, it’s Tuesday,” Robert says, watching Aaron work. He’s got a soft, light touch, unexpected but definitely not unwelcome. It’s something that Robert loves about Aaron.

There’s a heavy silence, then, thick with worry. “Robert, it’s Thursday.”

Robert shakes his head immediately, frowning, fumbling for a phone that’s still upstairs on his bedside cabinet. “No, it’s Tuesday.”

Aaron’s done with the bandage, and slides his phone out of his pocket. He shows Robert a screen that says Thursday.

“Fuck.” Robert drags a hand through his hair, takes a shaky breath. It’s not until he sees Aaron’s eyes intent on his hands, that Robert realizes they’re still shaking. “They won’t stop.”

Letting out a slow breath, Aaron takes Robert’s hands in his own, mindful of the cut. “When was the last time you slept?”

Robert gives him a wry smile. “Just now?”

“See, it worries me that you didn’t say last night,” Aaron says, looking frustrated. “Have you had any sleep since we got home?”

 _Yes_ , Robert wants to say. He’s had naps, but he can’t sleep at night, not while he has to make sure Aaron’s okay. When he says so, Aaron looks torn between anger and exasperation.

“Robert, you have to sleep. You can’t keep going like this.”

“Like what?” Robert snaps. “I’m fine, I’m _fine_.”

“You’re not!” Aaron lets Robert’s hands go. “Everyone’s noticed. You’re distracted, you’re dropping stuff all the time, you’re constantly hungry! You’ve not kicked me once since we got home.”

Robert pauses, mid-denial. “What?”

Aaron sighs. “When you sleep, a real deep sleep, you kick. I’ve told you this before. You need to _sleep_.”

“I will,” Robert says, giving Aaron a smile. It feels wrong on his face, like a lie, and he knows Aaron doesn’t buy it. “I promise.”

“You’re lying to me, Robert,” Aaron says, and rubs a hand over his face. “Talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

 _I watch you die_. Robert shrugs. “Nothing."

Frustrated, Aaron kicks his chair back and walks into the kitchen, spinning on his heel with a hand to his mouth. He takes a deep breath and waves a hand in Robert’s direction. “I can’t worry about you, okay? If I know you’re not sleeping, _I_ _’m_ not going to be able to sleep.”

Robert’s eyes narrow. “Are you manipulating me into going to bed?”

“Is it working?” Aaron says, a slight twitch to his lips. He sobers quickly. “Robert, please. I need to know you’re okay. I need to know you’re sleeping.”

“I can ask Vic,” Robert says, without thinking, and then curses his own stupidity. “She’ll probably say no. They’re at Moira’s and they don’t need me—”

“Hey,” Aaron says, approaching Robert slowly, like he’s going to freak out. Robert rolls his eyes, pulling Aaron in by his t-shirt. Aaron wraps his arms around Robert’s neck and Robert drops his head, forehead resting against Aaron’s stomach. “Please call her. It will make me feel better if I know you’re taking care of yourself. 

“Okay,” Robert says eventually. He doesn’t like it, can already feel the uneasiness settling about his shoulders. This is _Aaron_ and he wants Aaron to be safe, even if that means doing something he doesn’t want to do. “Okay.”

 

 

 

“The bed’s all set up for you,” Moira says with a soft smile. As soon as Robert called Vic, her eagerness to help was matched by Moira, who was happy to have him stay at the farm for the night. Robert’s never anyone’s first choice, so it surprises him that Moira's opening her house to him.

When he turns up on her doorstep, bag at his feet and missing Aaron like a phantom limb, she takes one look at his face and ushers him inside.

He disappears into the bathroom almost as quickly, looking at himself in the mirror. His eye is a mottling of purple, yellow and brown. He looks pale, shadows under his eyes that are thick and obvious. He flushes the loo, makes it seem like he’s actually done something, and takes a deep breath before making his way back out.

Adam, Vic and Moira are in the kitchen, late enough that they’re done with the farm, and there’s something that smells great on the table.

“You don’t have to feed me,” Robert says, about the same time his stomach rumbles.

Adam snorts, and Moira laughs softly.  “It’s okay, Robert. Aaron told me you've been eating a lot.”

“You have to take care of yourself, Robert,” Vic says, with a tutting noise. “Aaron said you weren’t sleeping, but I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Aaron’s saying a lot,” Robert mumbles. “Besides, it’s nothing,” he lies, sliding into the spare chair opposite Adam. “Just worried about Aaron.”

Vic makes a non-committal noise, and the four of them tuck into dinner. It’s not casserole, thankfully, and Robert’s hungry enough that he sheepishly asks for seconds. Moira nods, taking his plate to load it up again. Vic’s still watching him, eyes too dark with worry, and even Adam’s giving him the once over. Robert’s skin prickles with the attention, wishing he was back in the pub, Aaron curled up next to him, Liv chattering endlessly in the chair.

Moira passes him the plate and Robert grabs for it, misses. Moira manages to fumble for it, catching it before it can fall.

“Sorry,” Robert says, feeling embarrassed.

Vic and Adam exchange a look, which Robert promptly ignores. He’s just _tired_. It’s not like he’s broken, or needs help. Sleep will fix it.

Thankfully, as soon as he’s done with dinner, Moira ushers him upstairs. It’s a conspiracy, Robert knows; Aaron’s probably given them instructions to make sure Robert actually sleeps. As if Robert wouldn’t when Aaron’s asked it of him.

The bed isn’t his, and doesn’t feel right, but he’s tired enough that as soon as he lies down, his body starts to relax. He stares at the ceiling, blinking slowly, missing Aaron’s body heat, the sounds of him falling to sleep. Robert’s skin itches, his breaths short. He tosses, rolls over. His phone lights up on the bedside cabinet and Robert grabs for it, watching a text from Aaron slide onto the screen.

 _Sleep. I love you._  

Robert answers with a quick, _I_ _’ll try. I love you too,_ and thinks about turning his phone off. His hand hovers over the power button before opting not to. He shoves the phone under his pillow, fingers tight around the casing, and closes his eyes.

 

 

 

 _Aaron flatlines, hands falling, grip lax in Robert_ _’s, the ring shines, Chas crying, Liv sad, Robert’s heart thumping rapid fire in his chest, Vic crying, I’m sorry Robert, I’m so sorry, a coffin being lowered, Aaron’s face looking up from a memoriam leaflet, Chas crying, Liv crying, Robert’s chest tight, he’s gonna kill Lachlan, he feels sick, wants Aaron, will never have Aaron again, and —_

 

 

Robert leaps out of bed, gasping, staggers to the window and yanks it open. He sucks in lungfuls of air, feels the tears on his cheeks. He waits only long enough for the urge to flee to subside before grabbing his phone from under his pillow. There’s nothing. Robert brings up Aaron’s contact info, tries calling.

It rings, rings, rings, and Robert hangs up.

The farm house is silent when Robert pads down the hall, taking the stairs slowly. He grabs his jacket and shoes. He debates grabbing Adam’s keys, but the thought of getting in a car makes him feel sick and he can’t deal with that right now.

It's raining, and takes a while to walk back to the village, and even the cool air does nothing to make Robert feel better. He keeps his grip tight on his phone, trying to call Aaron three more times before the Woolpack comes into sight. Aaron doesn’t pick up any of them, and the worry sinks into Robert like a second skin.

He still has his keys in his jacket pocket, and fumbles with them as he tries to unlock the door. He’s probably not being quiet, but he doesn’t care. He needs to know Aaron is okay, fine and safe, and slams the door open, taking the steps two at a time.

“What the hell is going on —” Chas starts, coming out of her bedroom. Liv’s door opens. “Robert.”

Robert knows what he must look like, panicked and wet and cheeks red from the cold, but he pushes past her, towards Aaron’s room. The door opens before he gets there, and then there’s Aaron, looking sleep-rumpled and irritated. His face clears as soon as he sees Robert, as soon as Robert collapses into Aaron.

“Hey.” Aaron wraps Robert up in his arms. “It’s okay.”

Robert buries his face in Aaron’s neck, feels the rumble as Aaron says something to his mother, to Liv. Robert doesn’t know, just knows that he needs this, to know that Aaron is safe, alive. He kisses Aaron’s neck, feels the steady _thump, thump, thump_ under his lips and lets it wash over him.

“I’m okay,” Aaron says, fingers threading through Robert’s hair. He walks backwards, leading Robert with him, and kicks the door shut. “You wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Robert doesn’t, but he pulls back reluctantly. If he can tell Aaron about his dad, about _then_ , he can do this. “I can’t sleep.”

“I figured,” Aaron says wryly, keeping his fingers tangled with Roberts. Robert runs his thumb over the ring.

“I close my eyes and we’re back in the car. I watch you drown, I can’t save you.” Robert swallows, clenching his eyes shut. “I hear you flatline and I can’t breathe, it’s like I need to run, to stop it. I don’t know what I’d do if — you can’t leave me.”

Aaron looks unhappy, eyes red and wet, and he rests a hand on Robert’s cheek. It’s affectionate in a way he isn’t usually and it makes Robert’s heart clench. “You know I can’t promise that, not by choice.”

Robert does know, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear. “I thought you’d died. You said yes and you died. I wanted — I can’t do this without you.”

“I know,” Aaron says sadly, pulling Robert back in for a hug. He rests his chin on Robert’s shoulder. Robert lets himself be held, shaking a little. The exhaustion seems to settle over him then, and he rests his forehead against Aaron’s temple.

“I’m so tired,” Robert admits, slowly. “I want to sleep. I wanted to make sure you were sleeping. Then I just couldn’t without seeing you die, and I can’t handle that.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything, just strokes the back of Robert’s head, fingers smooth in his hair. He kisses Robert’s neck. Robert breathes slowly, wrapping his fingers in Aaron’s t-shirt.

“I want to stay here,” Robert says. “Don’t make me go back.”

“I won’t,” Aaron promises. He pulls back, kisses Robert slowly. “I need to send Moira a text, but you can stay here, okay? Get changed and under the covers, idiot.”

Robert does just that, while Aaron’s texting. When they finally curl up together, Aaron spooning up behind Robert, his arm wrapped around Robert’s stomach, Robert presses into him, rests his finger along Aaron’s pulse point. Aaron knows what he’s doing, Robert can tell, but he doesn’t care.

“I haven’t forgotten,” Aaron says, kissing the back of Robert’s neck. “You were in that crash too. I knew something was wrong, but you wouldn’t tell me.”

Robert nods. It’s easier that he can’t see Aaron’s face, can’t see the disappointment. “I’m telling you now.”

Aaron hums, rubbing Robert’s stomach. There’s nothing ulterior about it, just a soothing gesture that Robert appreciates. “You have to get better at that. I don’t wanna spend the rest of our lives having to dig it out of you.”

 _The rest of our lives_. Robert sucks in a breath. He’s been focusing so much on losing Aaron and worried about his death that he’s stopped focusing on what matters; Aaron said yes, _yeah_ and he’s gonna be Robert’s husband. Robert shifts, turns back so that he can see Aaron’s face. Aaron looks startled, eyes wide, but Robert curls a hand around the back of his neck, eyes soft and open.

“I love you,” Robert says. “I love you so much.”

Aaron’s eyes soften as he pushes into Robert’s hand. “I love you too.”

Robert kisses him, then, slow and lingering. He nearly lost this, yes, but it’s still here, still his. He grabs hold of that. Maybe he’ll still have nightmares, maybe Aaron will, but he can ask for help, Aaron wants to be there for him and Robert can learn to let him. He pulls Aaron close, lets Aaron wrap him up in his arms, and listens to the _thump thump_ of Aaron’s heartbeat as it chases him into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://sapphicsugden.tumblr.com)and say hi :D


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